Happy Birthday to Me?

It's November.
My birthday month.
Normally, I'd be celebrating ME all month long, all within a very restrained, "no, not me" air.
My birthday is November 28th (in case you want to send a card) and as it so happens every now and then, falls on Thanksgiving.
The last time my birthday fell on Thanksgiving was my 21st birthday.  I took tequila shots with my mother at a townie bar that happened to be open that evening.  It actually was fantastic.  I got to drink and I had a sober ride home (my dad.)
Even aside from the day, I still went out with friends, bought fruity shots and laughed harder than my stomach could bare.

Ever notice that when you have "kid" birthdays to plan, your birthday falls to the wayside a bit?  You no longer gather up everyone to celebrate because it would end up being at 4 PM at Chuck E Cheese?  The luster of a birthday wears, and I love celebrating my kiddos - but its still nice to feel a little love for yourself.

This year, I'm a little less excited.
It has nothing to do with my age.
I think I may make it a few more years and then just celebrate the anniversary of my 34th birthday.
I still question myself when I actually have to answer the question of how old I am.  26?  28?  That seems more reasonable.

Last year was probably the best Thanksgiving I ever had.  The four of us stayed in, wore pajamas, ordered Chinese food and hung out all day long in front of the fire.
Small, casual, relaxed and it included egg rolls.
Say what you will about a Thanksgiving feast, but I had everything I was thankful for.

This year, the "Black Friday" weekend is full of work and family obligation, my parents are out of town and my sister and I are are on less-than awesome terms.
Nate points out, I'll have him.
I'll have the girls.
But it's not exactly the bells and whistles that a gal hopes for.

I'm not writing a pity post.
Surely, if every one of you sent a card come November 28th, I would be brought to tears.
You're happy I was born.
I'm writing because
as wives and mothers we push aside our own parades and cheer at others.
We are often the planners and if you're not there to plan your own party, it may not actually happen.
Not for lack of love, but lack of knowledge or know-how.
Or actually realization that our humility means we want you to do the exact opposite of what we say.

But that doesn't mean we don't want a little fanfare.
And that's OK.
We can want a little pizzaz.
Handprint cards, a few cocktails and an awful rendition of "Happy birthday."
It's the little things that mean the most.
Especially the cocktails.
Those short glasses sure go a long way ;)

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